


A Tattoo

by lokidiabolus



Category: The Maze Runner (2014), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner, the maze runner
Genre: Gen, M/M, One Shot, Request Fill, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-29
Updated: 2014-11-29
Packaged: 2018-02-27 10:23:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2689304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lokidiabolus/pseuds/lokidiabolus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He mused about the design for months, at least that’s what he told himself.<br/>Need it to be perfect.<br/>Meaningful.<br/>Not cliché.<br/>Maybe a little mysterious?<br/>Smaller.<br/>Back? Shoulder? Neck? Ankle?</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Tattoo

**Author's Note:**

  * For [impaladaleks](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=impaladaleks).



Thomas thought he was going to need to be drunk for this. He wasn’t afraid of pain or anything, not even needles or blood. But it still felt a little scary, maybe with its intensity for something etched to his skin permanently, connected forever. He mused about the design for _months_ , at least that’s what he told himself.

Need it to be perfect.

Not cliché.

Maybe a little mysterious?

Back? Shoulder? Neck? Ankle?

He contemplated every possible angle and all the expected reactions from people if it was at too visible place. He used to be afraid about his parents finding out for so long he told them in the end. His mother gave him a dubious look, his dad shrugged it off.

“Off you go,” he said. “Get a butterfly or what is it that you want. An unicorn maybe.”

Asking his dad for an opinion was like talking to a brick wall, his whole “my son is a gay” attitude was still struggling with reality. Maybe that was also why Thomas decided that now was the best time to go and get a tattoo. To close the past, show not just himself but also others he was done with the regrets or hiding or anything.

It wasn’t like he had changed, right? He just preferred guys and he was _finally_ alright with it. Even though it was a fight, not just inner, but also with the rest of the world. He decided to let out the biggest secret in his life, not really expecting flowers and ovations, but maybe a little respect and just that someone told him: _yeah man, it’s fine. Good job. You did it. You are you now. No masks, no hiding, just you._

His family hadn’t been really the beacon of support, but he never expected as much. They… tolerated it, Thomas thought. They knew about it, but promptly ignored the fact, never mentioning, unless facing it, and Thomas lived through his father’s occasional remarks about _pink_ and _girly_.

He chose a small tattoo parlour.

It was in the town, not some strange back alley with doubtful background and suspicious people lurking around. The street was fully lit up, bright and welcoming, and in the middle of it sat this place, open for anyone who wanted to etch something to their skin.

Thomas knew drinking before was mostly frown upon, probably also not even healthy, so he left it aside, even though he felt like the alcohol could give him more courage. But he shook it off and entered completely sober – and completely alone. He thought about bringing a buddy to _hold his hand_ , but in the end decided against it, just in case he was going to freak out and run away. He didn’t think he would, but better be safe than sorry.

The salon was cosy. There was a huge collection of designs, photos of other people’s tattoos and all kind of thingies Thomas didn’t even wanted to know where they should go on a human’s body. The clock showed something past 9 in the evening and Thomas was surprised it was still open, but when he stopped in the first room with an overwhelmed look on his face, a young blond man appeared in the doorway, watching him expectantly. He had to be around Thomas’ age maybe, or maybe even less, and his eyes settled on Thomas like a laser.

“Hey,” Thomas managed to croak out.

“S’up,” the blond nodded towards him. He was without any visible tattoos or piercings and Thomas dismissed the thought of him being the one who run this place. It gave him a little more courage after all, with another person willing to get their body marked somehow.

“You already picked a design?” he started the small talk, feeling his body falling into a rigid posture how the nerves started working against him.

“Sort of. Have you?” the man replied and came a little closer. He was taller than Thomas, lankier, and his face was kind of adorable. He had those big brown eyes and a pretty smile and Thomas wondered what brought someone like this person here.

“I think so… was thinking of something with a wing,” Thomas fished for a paper in his pocket, looking at it a little hesitantly and then giving it to the man. He blond took it with a raised eyebrow, scanning the design carefully.

Thomas was thinking over this sign for very long. He thought he needed to, but maybe he just wanted to have a little more time, be a little more sure. But the longer he watched this boy scanning it, the more hesitant he became. Maybe the design was bad? Too cheesy? Not good enough?

“It’s pretty cool,” the blond remarked after a while. “I like it. Not really your thing though, I guess?”

“You think so?” Thomas blinked in surprise and the blond shrugged, returning the paper to the owner.

“I mean… wings are what, a freedom sign? That’s what you meant?”

“Yeah, sort of,” the brunet nodded a little taken back. He was thinking of a connection of him being finally free of doubt, but now it definitely sounded like a something from a bad movie.

“So what’s the problem? Why freedom?” an unexpected question landed and Thomas found himself at loss. “Not judging, mind you. Just think about it. Can you answer with something you really mean?”

“I…”

“Take your time,” the blond smiled reassuringly. “I think a tattoo is a serious business, man. Then you will get a wing and after a year you realize you don’t even know why anymore, and it will lose the purpose. It will be just a picture on your skin, meaningless. That would be a pity, wouldn’t it?”

It would. He was right. Thomas never thought about it that way. He looked down at the picture and thought about it like never before.

A freedom. Was he bound by something that he needed to show it on his skin?

_Bound by prejudice._

Was it something he needed to remind himself every time he looked at the tattoo? That he was free?

_I am free._

“You’re right,” he mumbled after a while. “It’s… something that’s not really needed.”

“I wouldn’t say needed,” the blond cocked his head to the side, looking at him through half lidded eyes. “I just don’t think _freedom_ is something you need to be reminded of.”

“Did you just read my thoughts?” Thomas blurted out and the blond chuckled.

“Of course, that’s what I do. Read thoughts and do an occasional fortune-telling,” he answered with a smile and turned around, going through a collection of all kind of pictures lying around. Then he found one and turned back, handing it to Thomas.

“When I saw you, I thought of this,” he nodded towards the sheet of paper meaningfully. “You just gave that vibe. I was thinking of this design for long, because it’s _complicated_.”

The picture was a maze. It was neatly done, all kind of amazing lines and shadings, and it captured Thomas’ attention right away. Looking for a way out, that was sort of his whole life.

“Do I look complicated?” he asked without looking up and heard another chuckle from the blond.

“Yeah. Layers and layers and layers.”

“How can you tell from one look?” Thomas finally glanced back at the boy, finding him shrugging at the question.

“Was just a hunch.”

“A good hunch,” the brunet muttered, staring back at the maze in wonder. It spoke to him on a strange, intense level. A calling maybe, he wasn’t sure. It felt familiar and yet it seemed like a complete enigma.

“It doesn’t have a way out,” he noticed after another look.

“Of course it does,” the blond opposed. “Just not at first. Such is life.”

“It’s perfect.”

“Glad you think so,” the man approved. “It’s my friend’s design. He was hoarding it for a long time and forbade me to give it to anyone unless I think it fits.”

“Oh?” Thomas looked back to the brown eyes that stared back at him.

“It fits.”

Thomas decided it was worth it. At that moment, in this saloon, with this design. It was the big moment and he wanted to go through it without regrets.

“This is it then,” he told more to himself than the blond. “You think I can get it now? Is the tattooist busy?”

“Not too busy,” the blond pointed towards the back room. “I’m sure it can be arranged.”

“Great,” Thomas nodded and felt the nervous streak gripping him again. But it was better. A good kind, the anticipation made him excited, not scared. He thought it was a good sign.

The back room was empty and Thomas wavered a little at the sight of needles at the table.

“The first look at this makes you feel like at the dentist, yeah?” the blond laughed behind him, approaching the table in a sure pace. “The looks people get here are priceless, let me tell you.”

When he gently touched the tools, Thomas finally realized who he had been talking to the whole time.

“Are you the tattoo artist?”

“That I am,” the blond agreed with a smirk. “Call me Newt if you like.”

“Newt,” he repeated the name, tried it on his tongue. It sounded nice. “You’re pretty good at this.”

“You haven’t even seen me working yet,” Newt opposed with a snort and Thomas shook his head.

“I mean… talking with um… customers? Or with people in general? You helped me a lot.”

“I’m glad I did then,” Newt winked at him and gestured towards the table. “I just think having something _permanently_ should be worth the effort, right? And the pain as well.”

“Yeah,” Thomas agreed, trying not to think about the _pain_ part too much.

“Inner forearm?” Newt suddenly took a hold of Thomas’ arm, turning it palm up and pushing the sleeve away. “Here maybe?”

His fingers gently traced the place just under the joint and Thomas shivered slightly at that. It tickled a little, but not too badly.

“You think so?” he looked up towards Newt’s face, deep in concentration.

“You know the saying when you get one you can’t stop?” the blond gave him a little smile, tracing the arm slowly. “When we start here, and you decide it’s worth it, the maze can grow. All the way from here,” his fingers slid from the middle to the side, “back up, towards the wrist.” He circled the wrist gently, stopping at the pulsing point of Thomas’ suddenly wildly beating heart. Newt smirked at him, releasing his hold and taking a marker.

“Of course if you want it on your back, maybe tracing the spine? Or below the ear. I think shoulders are seriously outdated place though. As well as shoulder blades. I wouldn’t put it on the front, would be a little messy.”

“Inner forearm sounds amazing,” Thomas whispered, not really knowing why his voice dropped so much. Newt smiled at him softly, tugging at the shirt.

“Off with it. Don’t want it to get dirty, do you.”

Thomas quickly discarded the garment, grateful the room was pleasantly warm, and presented his arm again. His brain barely worked, when he tried to think if any other place, it just didn’t react.

“So why the wing at first? Why freedom?” Newt suddenly asked while he started preparing all the needed things for his work. Thomas watched him carefully, looking over all those sharp object ready to pierce through his skin.

“Felt like a good idea, I guess,” Thomas mumbled as an answer. “Had some trouble adjusting in life. Got a better goals now, thought I will manifest it with being _free_.”

“Glad you sorted all the troubles out then,” Newt noted. “Being unsure in those things sucks.”

“Yeah…”

“But finding yourself, even when going through a bit of hardship at first, is worth it, right?” the blond added and Thomas had to agree.

“Not being afraid anymore feels good,” he said lightly.

“Sounds good as well,” Newt gave him a smile. “You ready?”

It felt important. The question was like a big, enigmatic crossroad when both answers were going to have a huge impact.

No would take him back and isolate him. It would give him chains again, and he hated the thought with passion.

Yes would move him forward. It would abandon the fear, but it would also create a new one. A risk. Was it worth taking? Was he ready for the change?

“You’re going to do great. It’s all about you, man,” Newt’s voice pierced the veil of his doubts like a ray of light. “Only about you. You’re your own master. And you did it. I’m proud of you.”

Thomas felt the world shook and probably the whole galaxy exploded somewhere. It all fit together like puzzles. A mosaic that was his life.

It felt right.

“I’m ready.”

**Author's Note:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> A request for Impaladaleks from Tumblr <3  
> impaladaleks inquired:  
> Hello, you're probably completely drowning in fic requests, but i love literally everything you write and if you don't have time to write this it's fine. Could you do a quick one shot where Newt is a tattoo artist and Thomas comes in for a tattoo? It isn't related to your other fics so I completely understand if its a no-go.
> 
> I hope it's alright, hun :) Sorry it took so long :(  
> It's a completely stand alone fic, it doesn't have anything in common with Online or SU series. It feels like a prelude tho, haha.


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